Chronicles of the Lipstick Lunatic
by newbie31
Summary: Have you ever had a boss that was bat shit crazy? My name is Sara Jackson and this is my life.
1. Chapter 1

The day I got the call to set up my interview at a daycare in my hometown was the most exciting day of my life. Considering I graduated from college at the top of my class I thought finding a job would be easy but I soon learned the competition was brutal for an educator. I should have known this was going to be an interesting experience the second I walked through the door of the daycare only to be greeted by Jillian Taylor AKA the lipstick lunatic. My name is Sara Jackson and this is my life.

Chapter 1- The Interview

As I approached the two-story brick building I can feel the butterflies wrestling in my stomach. This is my umpteenth job interview I have been on since I graduated college in May and I need this job. Although the money is good, I didn't work hard for all those years to work as a waitress and Dave and Busters for the rest of my life. I need this job! Working here is going to open doors for me and come hell or high water I am going to get this job, no matter what.

There is a young brunette, no older then nineteen if I had to guess, with sad, green, glassy eyes watching me approach her desk. She is holding her desk phone about an inch from her ear and even though her face has a fake smile plastered upon it her eyes are telling me otherwise. Just as I close the gap between us she stands and greets me.

"Good morning, I am Kelly. How can I help you today?" she squeaks out as if she is trying to hold it together for appearance sakes.

"Good morning, Kelly. I have an appointment with Mrs. Jillian Taylor. My name is Sara Jackson," I reply, my smile slowly fading as Kelly's eye widen after I mention Mrs. Taylor's name.

"Y..Yes, of course. I will let Mrs. Taylor know you are here. Please take a seat." She smiles and points to a wooden bench near the front door.

Kelly retreats in haste nearly tripping over her own two feet as she exits the room through a heavy wooden door that needs a pin code to get access to whatever room lies beyond the lobby. In the lobby I see pictures and paintings, probably belonging to the students who attend school here, hung up proudly on a bulletin board that spans the width of the entire far wall. There is a glass window next to Kelly's desk with the shade drawn and the air smells of finger paint, disinfectant and…fear.

As I take in the rest of the room and imagine coming to work here every day, the heavy wooden door opens and a woman with blond, almost white hair, pulled into a messy chignon emerges. Her face shows her age to be in her mid fifties and her clothes are expensive but poorly put together. Her blue, designer pantsuit that probably cost upward of five hundred dollars is paired with cheep black flats and red, pilly, sweater. Who the hell wears a sweater under a jacket?

"Miss Jackson, I am Mrs. Taylor," the woman greets me with an extended hand. The pungent smell of Chanel #5 fills my nose and even though I am trying to maintain a stoic expression the smell is invading my nostrils, making me feel a bit queasy.

"Mrs. Taylor, nice to meet you," I counter, trying to stifle the sneeze that is building.

"Come. My office is right through here."

Jillian turns and puts her pin code into the door before opening it wide for me to enter. Just as I step into the hallway I hear her snap at Kelly to alert her when her next appointment certainly is a nervous little thing, she jumps clear out of her chair at the sound of Jillian's voice and stutters her way through her, "Yes, ma'am."

As we enter Jillian's office I take in Victorian type décor with dark wooden furniture and Elizabethan furniture. This room seems very out of place in a daycare but I don't think too much of it as I sit in the Tudor style chair opposite the most intricately carved desk I have ever seen. Jillian pulls out a yellow folder before looking back up at me through her black rimmed glasses giving me a tight smile. It is not until she begins to speak that I notice her ruby-red lipstick is horrifically smeared on her lips and teeth. Does this woman not own a mirror? How the hell does one get that much lipstick on their teeth?

Jillian begins asking some pretty standard interview questions. Why do I want to work with children? What made me choose this line of work? Yadda, yadda, yadda. I answer all her questions to the best of my ability but it's not until she stammers on and on about her garden and growing up in some fancy town in upstate New York that I tune her out, smiling politely and nodding at all the right times of course, but I can't pull my eyes away from her mouth. I can feel my tongue instinctively running over my teeth as if it would rid her of the red splotches clearly displayed on her own pearly whites.

"Miss Jackson?" she questions.

"Um…sorry, what was that?"

"I asked when you would be able to start. We need someone with your level of education in our pre-kindergarten classes. Our current teacher is going out on maternity leave soon and I am offering you the job. Temporarily of course, just until she comes back."

Really? This woman is offering me a job. I haven't even been listening to her for the past ten minutes but I guess she didn't notice. Interesting.

"Immediately. My current job is at night and on the weekends so I don't see a problem starting as soon as you need me."

For the next half hour we talk salary and she explains what hours I will be required to work. She seems impressed by my résumé but her tone is very condescending and it's almost as if she feels the need to talk down to me. I admit this is my first job in my preferred field but I don't see the need for her to treat me like an imbecile, needing to explain the basics of early child development. That was my major after all.

"Excellent. I will see you tomorrow at 8am," she says with a rush while looking at her watch. "I have a parent meeting now so I am afraid our time is up."

Without hesitation or direction she steps away from her desk and walks out the door, almost as if she forgot I was still sitting in her office. After a few seconds I realize she is not coming back and I gather my things and walk back the way I came. This woman is odd to say the least but who cares, I got the job. I mean how bad can it be really.

I push open the heavy wooden door and Kelly jumps again in her seat and visibly relaxes once she sees that it is me walking through the door and not Jillian Taylor. I wave to her and say good-bye as I exit the building. Just before the glass door closes I could swear I heard Kelly whisper, "Run." Once the glass door closes I look back to see Kelly with a pen in her hand, as if she is writing something down, and peeking at me over the top of her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- What just happened?

The next morning, the sun is shining and the birds are singing as I arrive at work with a smile on my face and a hop in my step. I love working with kids and I am super excited to get to know them all. I enter the main entrance and bid Kelly a good morning, only for it to be returned with another sad expression before she buzzes me in. I walk to the end of the long corridor to where Mrs. Ann Murphy's pre-kindergarten classroom is. When I enter the room I immediately know I am in the correct room because I am greeted by an exhausted and very pregnant Mrs. Murphy.

"Good Morning, are you Ann?" I ask while peeking my head through the door.

"Yes. You must be Sara. The lip- I mean Mrs. Taylor said you would be starting today," she replies as she shakes my hand and motions for me to enter in further.

Ann shows me where to put my belongings and walks me through their day. We go over lesson plans, morning routines, bathroom breaks, snack time, naps, and finally dismissal. Everything is just as I suspected it would be but I am shocked that other than one parent volunteer, there is no other teachers assistants in the room since there will be fifteen kids in this class.

"So, Sara, do you have any questions?"

"Not really, but isn't it a bit unusual to only have one teacher and one parent in a class of fifteen. I would think it must be very overwhelming to keep so many kids in this age group inline without more help."

Ann scoffs at my comment and nods her head. "It gets very overwhelming. Mrs. Taylor says if you are an effective teacher you don't need the help of others. Frankly it is just her way of not hiring anyone. A room parent, Maria Rivera, volunteers here in exchange for tuition but to be honest she is not very helpful to all the kids; just her own son, Max. He is a terror so it helps some but you will be basically on your own. It is just a shame that this will be your only day to shadow me."

"What? What do you mean the only day?" I was taken back by her words. I know Jillian said Ann was going out on maternity leave soon but she wouldn't hire me the day before she left. Would she?

"Jillian didn't tell you this was my last day? You have got to be kidding me! She is out of her-"

"Mrs. Murphy!" screams a bubbling four year old redheaded girl as she barrels through the open classroom door. "I got you a baby present. Today is your last day so mommy said I could bring it to you today. This is from me. Only me," she says with a rush as she shoves the gift bag at Ann.

"Melanie, sweetie, give Mrs. Murphy some room," says a red haired woman who is slowly entering the room. "She was so excited I brought her in a little early before all the other kids arrive so she wouldn't overwhelm you."

"No problem. Melanie, why don't you put your stuff in your cubby and then I will let you help me open it."

"'kay."

"Pam this is Sara Jackson, my replacement. Sara this is Pam O'Malley, Melanie's mom. Pam helps us out from time to time when our room parent Maria can't make it. Pam is a big help."

"Nice to meet you. I am glad they finally got someone to fill in for Anne. If you ever need me to help just give me a call, my number is in the class directory."

"Thank you Pam." I have a feeling Pam and me are going to be great friends. Just as we finish with the pleasantries Melanie returns and helps Anne open the gift she very clearly stated she picked out. Her eyes light up when she hold up the purple and pink zebra print outfits and goes on to explain again that they are from her and only her.

The morning is in full swing as kids start filing in the room, putting their stuff away, and taking a spot of the carpet in the front of the room. The room parent Maria Rivera arrives late and explains it is because her son Max didn't want to get himself out of bed this morning. Max very loudly interrupts the class while they are sitting on the carpet going over the weather and the calendar. Maria slumps into an empty chair on the outskirts of the carpet where all the other students are sitting, completely oblivious to what Max is doing. She reaches into the pocket of her pink, Juicy Couture knockoff sweat suit, pulls out her phone to catch up on her current Face book status, and sips on her morning coffee while Max is hopping in the back of the room ignoring Anne's request to sit down and join the group. Maria hasn't even batted an eye during this exchange and has yet to even acknowledge me; even after I take it upon myself to tell Max he needs to join the rest of the class.

Once the morning routine has been completed Anne introduces me to the class and informs them that I will be taking over after today. Maria looks up at me and narrows her eyes before sitting up straighter in her chair. I can feel her eyes on me as she sizes me up. Something about her demeanor makes me uneasy. Far be it for me to judge but this girl is T-R-A-S-H with a capitol T. I grew up with girls like her who have this hard ass front but are completely fake. Yes it is becoming more apparent that Maria and I are going to be great friends.

After morning time is over Anne has the kids sit at their tables to get ready for the lesson for the day. Since this is her last day she is focusing her lesson on the letter "B" for and has even given them worksheets for them to practice writing the word "baby". The entire class seems excited except for Max who is running around in circles saying he knows where babies come from. I can see from the expression on Anne's face she doesn't have any doubt that Max does in fact possess this information.

"I know where ya' get babies! I know where ya' get babies," Max shouts over and over again as Maria giggles at him and pretends to try to calm him down.

"Max! That is enough. Sit in your seat now, please," Anne persists to the annoyance of Maria.

"Babies come from you 'gina. You know that Mrs. Murphy?" Anne and I gasp at the exact same time and Maria corrects him as if she is helping by telling him the word is pronounced vagina.

Holy shit! My spidey sense is correct, trash. This woman and I are not going to get on well if she thinks I will put up with this crap.

"MAX! Sit down. We don't use words like that in this room," Anne yells and immediately winces in pain, probably from the stress of the issue unfolding in front of her.

I decide now is a good time to put my foot down. I walk over to Max and bend down to his level. He instinctively takes a step back when he sees the no nonsense look I am giving him. "Max, you are being very disruptive to the rest of the class. You will both sit down and complete your work or you can sit in Mrs. Taylor's office all by yourself. Either way, you will not behave rudely in my class room. Are we understood?"

Max hangs his head and walks to his seat to complete his worksheet. I can see out of the corner of my eye Maria is watching me, not really knowing how to react to what she just saw.

"Miss Maria, can I see you in the hall for a second," I more tell then ask and turn to walk out the door. I need to set this chick straight right now. If she thinks anything that just happened in there is funny then her and I are NOT going to get on well at all.

"Yea."

"Maria, what just happened in there can never happen again. After today this will be my classroom and interruptions like that won't be tolerated. I expect you, as the adult, to discourage behavior like that not encourage it."

"What so I'm a bad mom because my kid knows babies come from your cooch?"

"I didn't say you are a bad mother I am saying that bad language and inappropriate behavior will not be tolerated."

"Whateva'. I'm out then," she says before turning around and walking toward the main lobby. Before she walks through the heavy wooden door Jillian sees her leave and looks back to me with an irritated glare. Her heals are clicking on the linoleum floor louder and louder as she approaches.

"Miss Jackson, what happened? Why is Maria Rivera leaving?" Jillian scolds.

"Her son Max was using bad language and not listening, disrupting the whole class. She was laughing at him instead of correcting him and I told her that I would not tolerate this going forward. She took it as an insult against her parenting and left," Jillian has her arms crossed as I explain myself. The putrid amount of perfume she has on causes me to take a step back and I notice her lips and formed a thin red wavy line. She really needs to apply her lipstick with a mirror.

"Miss Jackson, since this is your first day I will let this go. We do not make it a point to tell people how to parent their children. You are to teach the curriculum and maintain order in your classroom. If you cannot do that then I will find someone who can. Are we clear?"

"I was not telling her how to parent. I was telling her that-"

"Are we clear Miss Jackson?" Julian's voice carried over mine causing Anne to pop her head out of the classroom to make sure all was right with the world out in the hall. When she saw it was Jillian I was speaking with and not Maria her eyes grew wide and she skulked back inside.

"Yes," I grit through my teeth before she turned on a dime and walked off.

As I entered the classroom I saw all the kids were quietly eating their snack while classical music played in the background. Anne nodded toward the back of the room where her desk is and I sat on the edge waiting for her to waddle over.

"What was that?" I asked.

"That was the lipstick lunatic. She is crazy. Why do you think it too so long to fill this position? No one in their right mind wants to work for her. There is no rhyme or reason to why she does the things she does. She runs hot and cold. Her mind changes daily. It is impossible to keep up with her. My advice, keep your head down and don't argue. She will most likely forget about your conversation tomorrow so just roll with it."

"Why do you still work here?" I ask her.

Anne's face lights up and she juts out her chin to where the kids are finishing up their snack and smiling back at her, "Them."


End file.
